


Higher than stars.

by drinkginandkerosene



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Anorexia, Cutting, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 19:18:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drinkginandkerosene/pseuds/drinkginandkerosene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jehan can't create a perfect picture of anyone, let alone himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Higher than stars.

I learnt you by the pale light of cold mornings, with the sheets surrounding us like the ocean. You were always my anchor, my island.

Your fingers trace my spine, and my eyes are still closed against the world, but I know you can see my slight smile. Your fingertips are like a blessing to my broken body, but I’m not sure you can see the bruises they leave. My skin is as delicate as my ego, and I’m in the habit of breaking all mirrors, and scales, although the last one is purely accidental.

Sometimes, you tell me I’m beautiful. Always, I don’t believe you, but lies are sweeter than the truth.

We destroy each other every night when we fall into each other, and I like it when you forget to be gentle. I will you to break me, destroy me, and the scratch marks feel a little something like heaven, which is the same as the ache in my empty stomach. 

When I gasp, and moan, I’m not being entirely honest. It’s not you. You could be anyone, and I think you’re realising that. Sometimes it feels like I’m forgetting your name, and you look at me and you know. I don’t know why you stay with me.

You bring me tea when I’m painting, and you’ve stopped asking what I’m trying to create. I don’t know either, but it reduces me to tears, as I’m unable to create beauty on a blank page, so what of my body? That’s hardly blank. The bright red lines are scattered like confetti, and I can’t erase those. I’ll settle for erasing me, step by step, purge by purge.

I like that word. It makes me feel powerful.

I suppose you could say I’m insane, but I don’t think that does me justice. I know what I’m doing. I’m aware of the consequences. For me, they’re a reward. Death was never a threat for me, it was a fact. Failure? Now that was something to be afraid of. So I’ve set my sight on something a little higher than the stars, and although sometimes I see the sky in your eyes, I’m not what you want, you’re just pretending. 

That’s okay, because sometimes, lies are sweeter than the truth.


End file.
